


Newton's Laws

by raiining



Series: Inspired by "Energy, Force, Motion" by Harcourt [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Slavery, Consent Issues, M/M, history of non-con (not explicit), history of suicidal thoughts, slave!Clint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-28
Updated: 2014-02-28
Packaged: 2018-01-14 02:13:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1248901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raiining/pseuds/raiining
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is no way to magically make this better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Newton's Laws

**Author's Note:**

  * For [harcourt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/harcourt/gifts).
  * Inspired by [energy, force, motion](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1164046) by [harcourt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/harcourt/pseuds/harcourt). 



> Second and final part in the "Inspired by Harcourt's Energy, Force, Motion" series.
> 
>  
> 
> Warning for dub-con: Clint is a slave and Phil is not. Technically, Clint is consenting, but there are serious Stockholm Syndrome elements at play.
> 
> Also: Clint has a flash-back at one point and there are implications of previous non-con rape. Please take your own mental health into account before reading.

“Maybe I could gift him to you.”

Phil sighs into his tumbler. “No, Tony. You can’t do that.”

“Sure I can,” Tony insists. The ice in his matching glass rattles as he gestures with one hand. “It’s perfect! I’ll agree to the court decision and I’ll put him back in the system, and then you’ll buy him and done! He’ll be safe!”

“No. He’ll have to stay in lock-up and be subjected to re-training, and you _know_ they won’t let me coordinate with their repeat violent offenders coordinator.”

“So I’ll bribe someone,” Tony argues, sounding mulish. “I’ll throw some money around and – ”

“ _No_ , Tony. Besides, you promised – never for sale, not at any price.”

Tony makes a face. “Bruce will understand. So will Steve.”

“But your new acquisitions won’t, and Clint – Clint won’t thank you for that. He’s yours. He’s proved that, now.”

“Yeah,” Tony agrees, tipping back his head and pouring the scotch down his throat. “Fuck.”

Phil grimaces and takes a sip of his own drink. “It’ll be okay,” he says, more to himself than to Tony. “You have the best lawyers in the world, and he saved your life. He put the gun down immediately afterwards. He did everything right.”

“Except no one will care about that, will they?”

Phil stares into his glass. “No. They won’t.”

They sit in silence for several minutes. The third floor lounge is quiet, and the staff know not to disturb them here. Eventually, Tony runs a hand over his hair and puts down his tumbler, mumbling something about going to the lab. Phil watches him go. Bruce will help him sort his feelings out. Tony wants to save the world, one person at a time. Phil knows the system doesn't work like that, and Bruce does, too. Bruce is better about accepting it, though. Phil's glad for it.

He tips his head back, resting it on the couch, looking up at the ceiling as if the answers he needs will be there. The white stucco remains stubbornly blank. Phil sighs. His collar suddenly feels too tight and he rips his tie off with one hand, unbuttoning the top button of his shirt. 

He hates court appearances. 

“That sigh wasn’t for me, was it?”

Phil looks over. The vent cover in the corner of the ceiling has been moved aside and a face is peeking out. “Barton? What are you doing up there?”

Clint shrugs. His fingers tighten around the edge of the vent and he flips, head over shoulders, to lower himself gracefully to the floor. There’s dust in his hair. “I got tired of walking around the Tower. People keep looking at me.”

Phil smiles. “You’re going to have to get used to it. You're a hero to the household, after all. How long have you been crawling around in the ventilation ducts?”

Clint attempts an innocent expression. He fails. “A while.”

“Since we took the cuffs off, then,” Phil translates. “Oh, Clint. So the time I punished you for provoking Pym, when you swore you _had_ to walk by the Level-C labs on your way to see Tony, you lied to me? You could have travelled through the vents instead?”

Clint makes a face. “If I say yes, will you punish me again?” 

Phil can’t stop his chuckle. It feels good to laugh. “Of course I will.”

“Come on,” Clint groans, but there's a twinkle in his eye. “Isn’t there a clause? Like, double jeopardy or something?”

“No,” Phil says, still laughing. “You’re a menace. Come here.”

Clint grins but does, dropping to the ground at Phil’s feet, nudging forward between Phil's knees. 

Phil sets down his glass and buries his fingers in Clint’s hair. “How are you feeling?”

Clint shrugs. “I’m alright.” 

He doesn't look that bad, actually. Phil gently scratches Clint's scalp. “You look less tense than I feel.”

Clint tips his head back until it's resting on Phil’s knee and closes his eyes. “I’ve made my choice, I guess. I’m not going anywhere.”

Phil's glad to hear it, but it's a far cry from the angry man they brought into the Tower not long ago. “You’ve been talking with Bruce, haven’t you?”

“And with Steve,” Clint admits. “Even with Pepper, a couple of times.” He hesitates, peering up at Phil. “We don’t talk about Tony, though.”

Phil frowns. “No?”

Clint shrugs with one shoulder. “Tony is… Tony. He’s not that difficult to understand. I know about his father and the history of S.I. I know what happened in Afghanistan, or, at least, what Bruce thinks happened. I know about Iron Man, and what he’s trying to create with this weird, pseudo-family thing he's got going on.”

Phil smiles. “And what is that?”

“Tony wants to help people. He used to do it with health care, with freedom papers, with money. He still does, sometimes, but now he knows what it’s like to be broken. He wants to help those of us who are.”

Phil’s hands tighten in Clint’s hair. “You aren’t broken.”

“Don't lie to me,” Clint says, sounding tired. He pushes his head back into Phil's hands. “I've had so many opportunities to escape since I've been living here, so many moments I could have taken advantage of. That second week, especially. I told myself I was waiting, biding my time, getting my strength back so I wouldn't be caught again, but I knew that wasn't it. I wanted to belong here. I wanted to stay.”

“I – ” Phil has to clear his throat. “I had hoped you felt that way.”

“I know you did,” Clint tells him. “It was you, of course. Right from day one, it was you. You picked me out of that slave market and you looked me in the eye and you introduced yourself like a real person. It'd been so long since someone did that.” He quirks a smile. “How pathetic does that make me? Someone calls me by my actual name and I feel like a real boy.”

“You are.” Phil can't quite stop the rasp in his voice. “You _are_ real. You _matter_ , Clint. Yes, Tony owns you – yes, you belong to him – but that just means he gets to take care of you.”

“You mean that _you_ get to take care of me.” 

Phil feels pierced by that gaze. “I – ”

“Don't deny it,” Clint tells him. He sounds angry, now. “I know what you want. You want me to feel good, you want me to stay. You want to love me and punish me and fuck me. Don't lie and say you don't.”

Phil's chest hurts. “I don't want to lie to you. Yes, I want those things. I want everything, but – ”

“But what?” Clint asks. He hasn't moved from between Phil's legs, Phil realizes. His eyes are half-wild and his muscles are tense, but he hasn't moved. He's watching Phil's mouth. “What's stopping you?”

“You aren't mine.”

“ _Good_ ,” Clint tells him viciously. “I'm glad I'm not yours. I'm glad I don't belong to you. I'm Tony's. I know you can do whatever you want with me, but he's promised he's never going to sell me and I believe him. I don't always, but this time I do. He would have done it by now.”

“I don't – ”

“Don't you see? It means that when I fuck this up, you can't just get rid of me.”

Phil's hand tightens in Clint's hair. “I would never get rid of you.”

“You say that now,” Clint says, looking away, “but I'm going to want you to sometimes.” He takes a deep breath. “I'm fucked up, Phil. I know that. I don’t want to be free anymore. Your job is to make me behave and I want to behave. I've latched onto you and I know it's not healthy and I know it's not right but I don't _care_ anymore. I want you.” He lets out a hollow laugh. “They're probably going to haul me off to the incinerator any day now, anyway, so I'm done with denying the things that I want. I want you.”

“They _won't_ ,” Phil promises. “We aren't going to let them.”

“Maybe,” Clint says, but he doesn't sound convinced. “I knew what I was doing when I went for the gun, though. I made my choice. I could have tried to run after, but I didn't do that, either. Whatever time I have left, I want to spend it here – with Tony and Bruce and Steve and, and with you.”

Phil can't stand having Clint so far away from him any more. He pulls him up onto the couch, wrapping his arms around him. “Tell me what you want.”

Clint shudders. “I want you to fuck me. I want you to do your job and keep me in line. I didn't want to admit it when I first got here, but I like the rules you put down. I need them. I might push back against them sometimes, but I _need_ them.”

Phil's arms tighten. “That doesn’t mean you’re broken.”

Clint turns and tucks himself into Phil's chest. “You’re broken, too. I know you can’t sleep without your service weapon next to you. I know Tony hired you a year after you’d been discharged. I don’t know what that was like for you, being on your own, but I know you moved into the Tower the day after Tony said you could.”

Phil thinks about his old apartment, the way he used to clean his gun at night instead of sleeping. He shivers. “I’m glad I did.” He presses a kiss to Clint's cheek. “Have you been spying on me?”

“Maybe,” Clint admits. “I wanted to learn more about you.”

“And what did you learn?” 

Clint's quiet for a moment, but then he says, “I don’t know what happened to you. I know you have a Purple Heart in your bedside drawer. I know you sometimes limp when the weather is cold. A career-ending injury like that… ” he trails off. “A lot of people would get hard. Mean. I asked around, though. You’ve never abused your authority with any slave Tony’s ever brought home. You look at the Markets for people who are useful, yes, but also those who need to be saved. You bought Bruce and you bought me and you… ” he licks his lips. “You seem to care about us. You seem to care about me.”

“I do.” Phil’s voice breaks. He clears his throat and tries again. “I do care. You’re a person, Clint. Yes, I believe in training, yes, I believe in discipline, but I don’t believe in breaking people. I believe in putting them back together again.”

“I know,” Clint agrees shakily. “I’m not always going to agree with you. I’m not always going to behave. Sometimes I need to push. I need to know where the line is, and sometimes I’ll need you to tell me.” His breath is unsteady. “To show me. I get stubborn and…”

Phil tips Clint’s head back so he can meet Clint’s eyes. “I think we’ve proven that I can handle stubborn.”

Clint smiles. “Yeah, you have.” 

Phil smiles back, but then hesitates. “I can’t give you any special treatment,” he warns.

“I know that,” Clint hurries to say. “I wouldn’t ask you to. I just…” He bites his lip. “I don’t want the only time you touch me to be when I’ve done something wrong.” 

Phil slides his hands up and down Clint's arms. He takes the opportunity to appreciate the thick cords of muscle in a way he hasn't let himself before. “Is that so?”

“It is,” Clint agrees. He shivers, then looks down and bites his lip. When he lifts his head, there's something mischievous in his eye. “I’m starting to get a Pavlovian response to your punishment sessions, you know.”

Phil laughs. “Are you now? Well, we can’t have that, now can we?”

“No,” Clint agrees, his breath coming quick. “So, in the interests of my training you should probably take me to your room and fuck me.”

Phil fists his hands into Clint's hair, pulling him down until he can fit their mouths together. “Or I could fuck you right here on the couch,” he says when they break apart.

“Or that,” Clint agrees, breathlessly. 

“Tell me what you like,” Phil asks, unbuttoning Clint's shirt so he can get at the skin beneath. He smooths a hand over Clint's chest. “Tell me what makes you feel good.”

“You,” Clint says hoarsely. “I haven't had many opportunities to choose before, and I'm choosing you, so,” he shivers as Phil ghosts his nails over a nipple. “Anything,” he gasps. “I'll give you anything, Phil.”

It's the hottest thing anyone's ever said to him. Phil groans and attacks Clint's mouth, kissing bruises into his lips and grabbing Clint's ass with both hands, grinding him down. Clint lets out a sound that might be a whimper, but opens to his assault. His mouth goes pliant and his thighs spread wide, straddling Phil's hips. His cock is hard enough to be felt, even through the layers of clothing between them. 

Phil pushes up. The friction feels wonderful, but naked will be better. He doesn't want to think about leaving to go find supplies. “Did you think to bring lube?”

Clint shivers. He breaks away from Phil's mouth and digs a hand into his back pocket, coming up with a few packages of clinical, tasteless lube, likely snatched from the infirmary. “Yes.”

Phil takes the packages. “You _did_ come prepared,” he says, smiling. “Were you trying to seduce me?”

“Yes,” Clint tells him, pressing a closed-mouth kiss to Phil's lips, almost unbearably sweet. “I told you. I want this.”

Phil puts the packages on the couch next to them and takes Clint's face in his hands. “I want this, too,” he says. He presses a lingering kiss to Clint's lips, and then lets his mouth fall open, encouraging Clint to do the same. He licks his way into Clint's mouth, taking his time, building the heat between them. When Clint is gasping again, Phil pops the button on his pants and slides a hand into Clint's jeans.

Clint is flushed and deliciously thick. Phil knows this, of course, has seen him naked before, but it's different this time. He runs a hand under the head, drawing a gasp. Clint presses down into his hand. “Fuck, Phil.”

“Yes,” Phil promises into Clint's mouth. “That, too.”

Clint shudders. 

Phil kisses him for a moment more, relaxing him, and then taps Clint on the thighs. Clint knows what to do. The hours they've spent together in the training room have prepared them for this, the shift and slide of their bodies. Phil knows it's a cliche, but he doesn't care. Clint's right – they don't know how much time they have left.

Clint levers up onto his knees and lets Phil draw his pants down, then shifts to one side so Phil can pull them off. When Clint's naked, Phil cups him again, running his thumb down the shaft of Clint's cock and teasing the head. Clint bucks his hips into Phil's hand, gasping. His cock is swollen and thick. His shoulders are trembling.

“Shh,” Phil whispers, pulling him close. “I've got you.” 

Clint gasps and starts rutting against Phil's palm. “I want – ” he stutters. “Phil, I want – ”

“What do you want?” Phil asks, nipping lightly at his lips. 

“I want to come. I want to come with your hand on me and then I want you to fuck me. _Please_ , Phil.”

“Yes,” Phil agrees, his voice deep and throaty. “Yes, let's do that. Come for me, Clint. Come any time you're ready.”

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Clint moans, jerking his hips. Phil tightens his hand around him, milking the bead of pre-cum from the tip of Clint's cock. He uses that to increase the slide, jerking Clint off as he ruts against Phil's belly. “Please, Phil, please. Oh, please, please, please... !”

“Yes,” Phil tells him, gripping Clint by the back of the neck and pulling him in close. He puts their foreheads together and looks down, watching his hand stroke up and down over Clint's cock. “Come on, Clint, come for me. Just like that, come on.”

Clint's hips stutter forwards, jerking and then going still, his cock jumping in Phil's hand as he comes. The splatter shoots over Phil's wrist and onto his shirt. Phil ignores it and milks Clint's cock, turning his head so he can kiss the side of Clint's face. Clint slumps forward, panting into Phil's neck. “Oh, _Jesus_.”

Phil chuckles. Clint's shirt is still hanging open. Phil runs his hands over the dip between his neck and his shoulder, easing his shivers and helping him out of his shirt. “That was amazing. I've got you. That was good.”

Clint smiles and tips his head up for another kiss. He winces when he sees the mess on Phil's shirt. “That's going to stain.”

Phil kisses him. “It'll come out in the wash. Come on, get up. Kneel on the couch for me.”

Clint licks his lips but does as he's told. Phil shifts out from under him and takes a moment to rid himself of his clothes. His aching cock jumps when it's free, but Phil ignores it. He's close, but he doesn't want to come just yet. 

The lube is still lying where he put it on the cushion. Phil takes it and rips the packaging open with his teeth. It's cool and tasteless. He rubs the lube over his hands, trying to warm it up.

Clint kneels on the couch, gripping the back of it. He's shivering, and Phil runs a hand over his spine. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Clint gasps, dropping his head forward. “I just... I want...”

“Shh,” Phil soothes. He knows Clint's been used hard before. “It's me. I'm here.”

Clint shudders, but nods. Phil keeps a hand on his back as he touches Clint's ass, rubbing the lube over his hole. “How's that?”

“Wet,” Clint mumbles, and then gasps when Phil presses on his hole, not quite breaching him. “Oh, god.”

“How long as it been since someone fucked you, Clint?” Phil asks. He rubs a circle into the skin around Clint's hole, adding more lube. 

“Ages,” Clint moans. “Tony won't fuck me and you never have, not when you could have, not when I almost _wanted_ you to.”

“Almost isn't good enough,” Phil tells him. He presses on Clint's hole again. “Do you want this, Clint? Do you want me to fuck you? Do you want me to fill you up so good?”

“Yes,” Clint gasps. He pushes back into Phil's hand. “Phil, _please_.”

Phil presses a kiss to his shoulder blade and breaches him with one finger. Clint is tight, so tight, and shaking with it. “Shhh,” Phil soothes again.

“T-talk to me,” Clint stutters. “Please. Remind me that it's you.”

“It's me,” Phil tells him, pushing his finger in and out of Clint's hole. “I'm right here, Clint. I'm going to be so good to you. I'm going to give you everything you need.” He kisses Clint again, distracting him as he takes his hand off Clint's back and uses it to dribble more lube onto his finger. He wets Clint's hole and then pushes in again, adding a second finger when he thinks Clint can take it. 

“I'm going to be here, always. You're Tony's, but you'll come to me. You'll come to me and I'll be so good to you, I'll take you apart, baby, and put you back together again. No one is ever going to take you away from us. We're here for you now, Clint, all of us.”

Clint sobs and lets his head fall forward, resting it on the back of the couch. “I... I... ”

Phil kisses his back again. “You, what, Clint?”

“I want that,” Clint admits. His whole body shakes, but his ass relaxes. It opens for Phil and he adds a third finger. Clint groans. “Yes, please. I want that.”

“I'm going to give you what you want, Clint,” Phil promises him. He uses his free hand to slick himself up. “The things you tell me you want and the things you won't even admit to yourself. Everything. I'm going to give you everything that you need.”

Phil's cock is long, but not too thick. He brushes the head against Clint's ass and Clint keens. Phil scissors his fingers a couple of times and then withdraws. He doesn't leave Clint empty for long, slowly pushing his cock inside.

“Oh, fuck. Oh, _Phil_!”

“Yes, baby,” Phil groans, loving how hot Clint is, how tight. “You feel so good around my cock, Clint. So good.” He pushes in and out, feeling Clint contract around him, then slides flush when Clint relaxes. He's balls deep in Clint's ass and it feels so _good_. 

“That's is,” Phil gasps. He jerks his hips a little, and Clint gasps. “Are you all full now, Clint? Do you feel better? Is this what you wanted?”

“Phil,” Clint moans. “Do you have me? Catch me. I can't – ”

“Yes,” Phil tells him. He puts his left arm around Clint's shoulders and uses his right hand to grip Clint's throat. “It's okay, baby. I've got you.”

Clint jerks and comes apart in his hands, shuddering and shaking, tears running down his face. His cock is spent, but it still jumps, trying to come again. 

Phil fucks him through it, riding the jerk of Clint's hips. Clint is wet, hot tightness around him, a shaking mess in his arms. Phil understands how thin the strings were that Clint was using to hold himself together. He watches as each of them snaps, and he holds Clint, fucks him so he doesn't have to put himself back together again.

Phil's orgasm grips him hard. It feels like he's been riding the crest for far too long, and he crashes over it in a tumble of sensations too numerous to name. He's vaguely aware of pulling Clint flush against him by the hand wrapped around his throat, still talking into his ear, guiding him and grounding him even as Phil comes deep in his ass. His hips jerk and it feels good, so good that his vision whites out. He comes to plastered against Clint's back, sweat gathering between them.

Phil presses lazy kisses into Clint's shoulder, stroking his flank before flattening his palm against Clint's hips. “How are you feeling, baby?”

“Guuugh,” Clint groans, and Phil chuckles. He pulls out carefully, soothing Clint when he twitches. He rolls them over on the couch, wrapping Clint in his arms again. 

“You okay, baby?”

Clint's face is a mess, red and blotchy and tear-stained, but he looks peaceful, too. He nods and turns to bury himself in Phil's chest. “Yes.”

“Okay.” Phil rubs his back, scratches his nails gently across Clint's spine. “It really is going to be okay,” he tells him after a couple of minutes, feeling it now in his bones. “Tony's lawyers are the best in the world. We won't let anyone take you away from us.”

Clint doesn't say anything, but he does snuggle deeper into the skin between Phil's neck and shoulder. 

“It'll be okay,” Phil tells him, holding him close. “I promise.”

“Okay,” Clint says, after a minute, his voice muffled, “but for now, can we just...?”

“Yeah,” Phil agrees, reaching for the blanket Pepper keeps on the arm of the couch and drawing it over them. “We can stay like this for a bit. We have nowhere we need to be.”

Clint sighs and turns his head. His breath ghosts across Phil's neck. Phil tucks the blanket more firmly around them. “I'm happy here,” Clint says quietly, as if he's confiding a secret.

Phil kisses the top of his head. “I know,” he tells him. “Hush, now. Sleep.”

He does. 

 

The End


End file.
